


Summer Vacation

by enigmaticblue



Series: Hello Again [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Restless, Buffy goes to L.A. to spend a couple of weeks with her father. When she runs into an old acquaintance, Buffy finds out that people can sometimes change. A lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Vacation

“‘Come to L.A. for a few weeks, Buffy. I never get to see you anymore.’” Buffy let out an angry breath. “Right, Dad, because you’re always _so_ available.”

She glanced around his empty apartment, wishing that she had the nerve to catch the bus back to Sunnydale, but that would mean giving up, and Buffy didn’t want to give up. At least, she didn’t want to give up enough to actually do it.

Hank Summers had been in town all of two days before being called away on “urgent business,” promising that he would be back in a day or two. It had been three days, however, and her father had just called saying that it would be the middle of the next week before he could get back, leaving Buffy on her own.

Buffy knew that there were people in L.A. that she knew, but the last time she’d seen Angel, things hadn’t gone all that well. Also, she’d had a boyfriend, who was now in Belize. Realistically, there wasn’t anything in Sunnydale to hold Riley there except for her, and that wasn’t enough. They weren’t married or engaged, and he needed a job. Riley loved the army, and that was that.

She knew it, and she could accept it, but there was no way that Buffy was going to show up on Angel’s doorstep without a boyfriend on her arm to show Angel just how over him she really was. Childish? Maybe, but he was the one who’d left without even saying goodbye.

Buffy flopped down on the couch. At least in Sunnydale, she would have been able to hang out with her friends, even if they were all coupled up. And, the Hellmouth wasn’t so big that her two feet couldn’t get her anywhere she wanted to go. Buffy had been counting on her dad for rides around L.A. Very few of her old friends from Hemery were still around, and Buffy wasn’t sure she wanted to see them anyway.

She hadn’t left on very good terms, after all.

Buffy stood resolutely. “This is ridiculous,” she said aloud, knowing that the first sign of going crazy was talking to yourself. It wasn’t like she had anyone else to talk to, though. “I have a credit card. What am I doing sitting around doing nothing?”

It took her a little while to figure out which bus line would get her where she wanted to go; her dad’s apartment was in a different area of Los Angeles than their old house had been, and Buffy hadn’t needed to use the bus when she’d visited that first summer. She’d become a pro at using mass transport when she’d been working in L.A. at the diner, however. There had been no other way to get where she needed to go.

Buffy spent a contented afternoon doing what she did best—shoe shopping. Her dad was probably going to have a heart attack when he saw the bill for the two pairs of high-heeled sandals she’d bought, but Buffy decided that it was his own fault. After all, he was the one who had left the credit card for her and told her to “go buy herself something pretty.”

Buffy wasn’t entirely stupid; her dad was trying to buy her affections; she’d decided that she would let him try.

She grabbed a sandwich for dinner at a trendy little deli, and then caught the bus she _thought_ was going to take her back to the apartment. Unfortunately, Buffy was apparently not paying enough attention, and after about fifteen minutes going deeper into an area of town she didn’t recognize, she realized that she’d caught the wrong bus.

The only thing to do was to get off the bus at the next stop, wait for the next one going the opposite direction, and then catch the right bus. If it got too late, Buffy knew that she could always take a cab back home, but there was no sense in spending money on cabs when the only cash she had on hand was her own.

Buffy got off at the next stop and fished around in her purse for the bus information she’d written down, sighing when she realized that the next bus going her direction wasn’t going to be there for another half hour. Buffy probably would have called a taxi at that point, except that she didn’t have a cell phone, and she had no idea where the nearest payphone was.

The area she was in currently was a little rundown, but not rough-looking. It looked more like a lower middle class neighborhood, where the houses were well kept and lawns were neat, but nothing was especially fancy.

At least she probably didn’t have to worry about getting mugged. Although, Buffy wouldn’t have minded the action. It had been a few days since she’d been out hunting, and she missed it.

Buffy tensed, seeing the bedraggled figure walking towards her by the intermittent light of the street lamps. The man was streaked with mud and dirt, and he looked as if he’d been rolling around in the sewer. Most of the homeless people she saw around the streets were harmless, but it never hurt to be cautious.

As the man got closer, however, Buffy could see that he was limping a bit, and that he looked kind of familiar.

No, really familiar.

“Wesley?” she called in disbelief.

He looked up, his eyes widening. “Buffy? What are you doing here?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing. At least I don’t look like I just crawled out of the sewer.”

Wesley glanced down at his filthy clothing. “You’re not too far from the truth,” he admitted. “What are you doing here? In Los Angeles,” he added to clarify.

“I’m visiting my father,” Buffy replied. “He had to leave for business as soon as I got here.” She quickly turned the conversation back around, not wanting to explain that she was in that exact location because she’d caught the wrong bus. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing.”

“I don’t think I need to explain anything,” he replied, drawing himself up.

Buffy unbent a little, remembering that Wesley had actually been kind of cool the last time she’d been in L.A., when the Council had been after them. At least he hadn’t been doing the touchy-feely thing with Faith. “No, but it’s kind of a strange place to run into you.”

Wesley’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, well, I’m on my way home, actually.”

“On foot?” Buffy asked, surprised.

“No, on my bike.” Wesley gestured over his shoulder, back the way he’d just come. “I, uh, you see, I—I ran out of gas,” he said quickly, getting the words out in a rush.

He was so obviously embarrassed that Buffy was tempted to tease him, but something stopped her. Maybe it was just his bedraggled appearance, or maybe it was remembering that the only reason she was there was because she’d caught the wrong bus.

Or maybe it was because Wesley was a familiar face, even if not a particularly welcome one.

Buffy glanced around at the velvety darkness. Even if the neighborhood was relatively vampire-free, there was no way she could allow someone she knew to walk back by himself. Her sense of duty was too deeply ingrained for that, although she knew he’d probably be perfectly safe. Of course, she had the feeling that if she put it that way, Wesley would refuse her company. “Do you have a phone?” she asked.

He appeared surprised by the question, perhaps because she hadn’t taken the opportunity to make a snide remark about him running out of gas. “I do.”

“Could I use it?” she asked. “I think I’d rather take a taxi home at this point.”

Wesley nodded. “Of course.”

Buffy fell into step beside him. “So, are you still working for Angel?”

“Yes,” Wesley said precisely. Then, as though just realizing that she was carrying a few bags, he said, “Can I carry those for you?”

Buffy was about to refuse, to remind him that she was the Slayer, and then she changed her mind. It was rare that anyone who knew she was the Slayer offered to carry things for her, knowing that she was more than capable of doing it on her own. “Yeah, thanks.”

He took the bags, and Buffy found herself watching him carefully. Under the layer of grime, she could see the changes that he’d gone through. “Any particular reason you crawled through the mud?”

A smile touched his lips. “There was a demon, and Angel left Cordelia and me to do the dismembering. Of course, then Cordelia decided that I could take care of it on my own.”

“That sounds like Cordelia,” Buffy commented.

“She had a headache,” Wesley said, quickly leaping to her defense. “The visions take quite a bit out of her most of the time.”

Buffy shrugged, not wanting to argue with him about Cordelia. “Okay.” She paused. “So you and Cordelia, huh?”

Wesley frowned. “What?”

“I just thought…”

“No, we’re merely friends,” Wesley said. “We, uh, realized that it was for the best.”

Buffy nodded wisely. She wouldn’t want to date Cordelia, either. “Oh, sure.”

Silence fell, and oddly enough, it wasn’t horribly uncomfortable. In fact, it was almost—friendly.

“Here we are,” Wesley said as they approached a nondescript apartment building. Buffy followed him inside, glancing around with mild curiosity. She’d never given much thought to where her former Watcher might live, but if she had, Buffy probably would have pictured something like this. “The phone is just over there.”

“Okay.” Buffy felt strangely bereft, although all she’d wanted was to call a ride home. It had been so nice to see a familiar face, however, that going back to an empty apartment was less than appealing. “Thanks.”

Wesley paused. “You know, if you want, I was going to order something to eat. You could join me.”

Buffy had a feeling that he was just being polite, that he might not want her eating with him, but she wouldn’t mind hearing about how Angel was doing, even if she wasn’t going to see him while she was in town. At the moment, Wesley was definitely the better alternative to spending her evening alone.

“That would be nice,” she said. “It’s been quiet without Dad around.”

Something in his face softened. “Yes, I would imagine so. I’ll be out as soon as I get cleaned up. There are take-out menus in that drawer there,” Wesley said, pointing to the appropriate drawer. “See if there’s anything of interest to you.”

Buffy rifled through the menus, wondering at the fact that she was planning on eating dinner with someone she’d thought she’d never want to see again—and she was kind of looking forward to it, too.

~~~~~

Wesley stripped off his grimy clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over him. He had obviously gone insane, because he’d just invited Buffy to have dinner with him.

Next to Faith, Buffy represented his greatest failure, and Wesley had no idea what had compelled him to ask her to stay. Maybe it had been the loneliness he’d sensed in her, the same sense of isolation that he often felt, even with Cordelia and Angel.

Sometimes, especially with Cordelia and Angel.

He showered quickly, feeling self-conscious with the knowledge that he had a guest waiting for him in the other room. His apartment was his retreat, where few others came. In fact, Wesley didn’t think that either of his friends had ever been there.

Realizing that he’d left his clothing in his bedroom, as well as his robe, Wesley wrapped a towel around his waist, hoping that Buffy didn’t see him.

He’d almost made it across the hall when Buffy’s voice stopped him. “Wesley? I was thinking maybe Chinese, if that’s…” She trailed off, staring at his bare chest, and he could feel his face begin to flame.

“Is there something you needed?” he asked, embarrassment sharpening his tone.

“Huh?” Buffy glanced up, and he caught a glimpse of an emotion he didn’t dare name. “Oh, sorry. I just—never mind.” She turned and practically fled back into the living room, and Wesley sighed. Apparently, he was so attractive that he sent women running now. Great.

When he came out of his bedroom, he was fully dressed, including shoes and socks. He would need to call Angel later to see if he could get a ride to the gas station and then back to his bike. It had been rather stupid not to stop for gas, but things had been so busy lately that it had simply slipped his mind.

“I was thinking Chinese,” Buffy said quickly, obviously not wanting to address the fact that she’d just seen him in just a towel.

“That sounds fine.” Wesley didn’t need to look at the menu she handed him, having ordered meals often enough from the same restaurant. “What would you like?”

He ordered for the both of them, realizing belatedly that there really wasn’t much to do while they waited for the deliveryman. “How have you been?” Wesley finally asked.

“Good,” Buffy said cheerfully.

Wesley suddenly recalled that when Cordelia had spoken to Willow in his presence, they had been trying to stop some sort of government authorized emergency. “Did you manage to stop that apocalypse?” He winced. “That was a stupid question. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.”

Buffy shrugged. “No big deal. I know what you mean. As a matter of fact, we did manage to stop Adam from creating an army of demon cyborgs.”

“A what?” Wesley asked, thinking that sounded a little strange, even for the Hellmouth.

She gave him an impish grin. “I know. Sounds crazy, huh? Trust me, if you’d seen Adam, you would understand.”

“What did he look like?” Wesley asked, his curiosity flaring up.

“Tall, taller than you,” Buffy explained. “Half man, half demon, half—” She wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t work. Anyway, parts of him were human and parts were demon, all held together by metal and circuits.”

Wesley’s eyes widened. “How did you stop him?”

Buffy started to explain, obviously relishing the opportunity to play to an attentive audience. Wesley thought he understood how she might feel. When the only people who might understand your life were the people you lived with day in and day out, there was no opportunity for telling the stories you wished to tell.

As she told him about Adam, the Initiative—and oddly enough, a government chip inside Spike’s head—Wesley noticed that she was acting much friendlier than she had in the past. He couldn’t help but wonder how different things might have been if he’d listened more back then.

Wesley had a feeling that he might not have failed quite so horribly.

She’d just gotten done describing the battle that had taken place in the depths of the Initiative labs when their food arrived. “What happened to Riley?” Wesley asked after he’d paid. “And did you stake Spike?”

Buffy shrugged, the pain in her eyes apparent, in spite of her attempts to hide it. “Riley liked being in the army too much to stay in Sunnydale, especially when I would be the only reason for him to be there. Spike—” She grimaced. “Spike pretty much made himself scarce after that, so no. I haven’t staked him yet.”

“It doesn’t seem sporting to kill something that can’t fight back,” Wesley observed.

“Exactly,” Buffy said triumphantly. “See, everyone keeps asking me why I don’t stake him, and it’s because they don’t get that.”

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “Everyone?”

“Well, it’s mostly just Xander,” she admitted. “Giles understands. I think Spike is kinda growing on him.” She gave him a sharp look. “What about you? Last time I was here, you were pretty beat up, if I remember right.”

Wesley looked down at his Kung Pao Chicken, because it was easier than meeting her eyes. “That would be Faith’s doing.”

“She got you too, huh?”

“Yes.”

Their eyes met, and a connection was built. “Probably a good thing for her that she’s behind bars,” Buffy commented.

“Why is that?” Wesley asked.

Buffy’s eyes were grave, and he could see the Slayer she was—and not just the silly girl she sometimes seemed. “Because I wouldn’t have held back this time.”

Wesley nodded. He supposed he was grateful that Angel had held back, that Faith still had some chance at redemption. That didn’t negate the cold sweat he sometimes woke up in after a particularly bad dream, or the scars he still had from the broken shards of glass she’d used on his skin. Cognitively, he was grateful that Angel had been able to reach her, but emotionally—well, he’d had a number of pleasant daydreams about what he would do to her were their positions ever reversed.

Not that he’d ever admit to it.

“What about that thing Cordelia called Willow about? Cracking into some files or something?” Buffy asked, changing the subject.

“We took care of it,” Wesley said. “There’s a law firm here, Wolfram and Hart, that causes us trouble from time to time. They were trying to assassinate three children, but Angel managed to get there in time.”

“Sounds like fun,” Buffy said.

Wesley smiled thinly. “If you call nearly getting blown to bits ‘fun.’”

Buffy’s eyes widened in a very satisfying manner. “You what?”

It was his turn to share war stories, and while Angel was the one playing the hero, he didn’t think she was completely unimpressed with his role in things. Of course, Wesley carefully left out the translation of the scroll, and the Shanshu prophecy, since he wasn’t certain that Angel would want her to have that information.

“You’ve been busy, Wes,” Buffy said, sounding just as impressed as he’d hoped she would.

“We try,” he replied. “You know, I have to call Angel for a lift to my bike. Perhaps, if you’d like to stay…”

“No,” Buffy said quickly, shaking her head. “The last time we saw each other, things were pretty tense. I think it might be better if we don’t run into each other this time around.”

Wesley nodded. “Of course. I’d offer you a ride, but…”

“It’s not a big deal,” she assured him. “I’ve got enough money for a cab.”

He nodded. “Well, then.”

Their eyes met, and Buffy blurted out, “Do you know the best places to find vampires?”

Wesley frowned. “Why?”

“Because I’m the Slayer, my dad is out of town, and I’m bored,” she admitted. “I want something to do, and you’re the only ex-Watcher around.”

He couldn’t help but wince at the reminder—his firing still stung. Still, if Buffy wanted his help with her sacred duty, who was he to refuse? “I am working for Angel at the moment,” he reminded her.

“But you can get out, right?” Buffy pressed. “For a little while?”

Wesley suddenly realized exactly what Giles had been up against when faced with Buffy’s pleading expression. The older man hadn’t been a pushover—he’d been a model of restraint for not giving into her every whim. “I think I can manage that. Is there a number where I can call you?”

She gave him her number, and Wesley called her a cab and then helped her carry her packages out when it arrived. “Thanks for dinner, Wes,” Buffy said. “It was nice not to eat by myself for a change.”

“It was my pleasure,” he responded, surprising himself by actually meaning it.

Watching her go, Wesley realized that the last thing he needed was Angel catching Buffy’s scent on him. He sighed. It looked like he’d have to do some walking.

~~~~~

Buffy found herself looking forward to Wesley’s call, mostly because the idea of going hunting was so alluring. She longed for the chase after almost a week’s inactivity. There had been something about channeling the First Slayer, and then meeting her in a dream, that had changed her.

It had certainly changed the way she viewed being the Slayer. These days it felt less like a duty and more like a calling. No, calling wasn’t a strong enough word. It felt like a craving.

Of course, Buffy probably could have found plenty of trouble on her own, but L.A. was a big place, and trouble came in pockets. Unlike Sunnydale, where the presence of the Hellmouth meant that demons and vampires were a dime a dozen, Los Angeles had long stretches of demon-free streets.

When Buffy had lived in L.A., she’d had Merrick to show her the trouble spots, to tell her which cemeteries had had reports of attacks, or where the victims of “neck trauma” had been buried. In Sunnydale, Giles helped, but Buffy’s patrols were done alone most nights, and she haunted the cemeteries where vampires often rose.

When the phone finally rang, a couple of hours after the sun went down, Buffy grabbed it immediately. “Hello?”

“Buffy? It’s Wesley. Did you still want to patrol tonight?”

“Sure,” she chirped. “Can you get away?”

“I told them I had some errands to run,” Wesley replied. “If you’ll give me directions, I’ll come pick you up.”

Buffy blinked, remembering what Wesley had said the night before. “Pick me up?”

“Yes, on the bike. I filled up with gas today.”

There was no way she could back out now, because it would make her look like a coward in front of Wesley, and Buffy couldn’t have that. “Yeah, okay,” she finally said, giving him directions.

Buffy had to wonder what had come over her once she got off the phone. Surely she’d gone insane, agreeing to go looking for vampires with her ex-Watcher—on the back of his motorcycle. Maybe she could pretend to be sick. That might be an idea. Wesley would arrive, and Buffy would tell him that she felt really sick, and there was no way for her to go.

The phone rang again, and Buffy picked it up much more reluctantly this time. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart,” her dad’s voice greeted her. “How’s L.A. been?”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t above getting a little revenge for her father’s abandoning her. “It’s been great,” she replied. “I ran into an old friend yesterday.”

“That’s wonderful, Buffy,” Hank replied. “Are you two going to be able to do something together?”

“Oh, yeah,” Buffy replied. “He’s coming by to pick me up in a few minutes. On his motorcycle,” she added.

She could hear her father swallow hard. “Is that really a good idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Buffy said enthusiastically. “Wes is a nice guy, Dad. You’d like him.” Then, feeling very evil, she said, “He’s a private detective.”

With impeccable timing, the door buzzer sounded. “Okay, Dad, gotta go! I’ll talk to you later!”

Buffy snickered, pleased with herself. Of course, she’d spoken nothing but the truth, because Wesley was a nice guy, and her father probably would like him. He was definitely well-mannered enough to bring home to mother, if that’s what she was planning on doing—which it wasn’t.

Really, it was too bad that Wesley wasn’t boyfriend material. A summer fling was just what she needed to take away the sting of Riley leaving, although maybe less of the fling part would be good. Buffy didn’t need another Parker, that was for sure.

Her good mood was temporarily dimmed by the sight of Wesley’s bike and the hot pink helmet he held out to her. “Wesley…”

“You have to wear it,” he insisted. “It’s the law in California.” Trust Wesley to focus on a little detail like that. Buffy was the Slayer; it was unlikely that a fall from a motorcycle would kill her. Apparently reading her mind, Wesley added, “Just because you’re the Slayer doesn’t mean you’re invulnerable to hitting the pavement at high speeds.”

She sighed. “Did you pick it out?”

“No,” he responded. “It came with the bike.”

“How did that work?” Buffy asked.

“The woman who sold it to me had lost her husband, and she was selling it cheaply. It was a better price than a car, and it was in good condition. I didn’t have so much money when I left Sunnydale that I had much choice in the matter.”

Buffy didn’t know quite what to say to that, knowing that she had been at least partially responsible for Wesley getting fired from the Council. Not that she felt all that guilty, if only because he’d been impossible to deal with, but she still didn’t know how to respond.

“Do you regret it?” she finally asked, before he started the engine up.

He responded question for question. “Do you?”

The roar of the engine drowned out anything else she might have said, and Buffy threw her leg over the seat, clutching the back of Wesley’s jacket gingerly, not wanting to get too close.

“Better hang on,” he warned her, shouting over the noise of the bike.

Wesley took off so quickly that Buffy clutched him out of reflex, wrapping her arms around his waist. After a few minutes, she began to enjoy the ride, finding her position rather comfortable. It helped that Wesley wasn’t intentionally going too fast or taking sharp corners. He obeyed the traffic laws, driving carefully.

In that, at least, Wesley reminded her of Riley, who had always followed the speed limit. He’d been straight as an arrow, and being with him had been a relief. Unlike Angel, there had really been nothing illicit about their relationship.

Well, mostly. There had been the whole Initiative thing, but that hadn’t been illegal or anything, just dangerous.

A propensity to do the right thing was probably about the only thing that Wesley and Riley had in common, though. Riley was a soldier, and the first to heed the call to battle. Wesley was—well, Wesley.

Although, Buffy did notice some improvement in him.

He finally brought the big motorcycle to a stop in front of a cemetery. “What’s the deal?” Buffy asked, pulling off her helmet.

Wesley did the same before speaking. “I was looking over some of the recent police reports today, and it appears that there may be a vampire nest in this area. Over the last three weeks, two bodies have been found, and there are reports of people having gone missing in this neighborhood.”

“Angel doesn’t know about it?” Buffy asked.

Wesley shook his head. “Typically, I’m the one to keep him apprised of new developments regarding police reports. He had a detective who would sometimes give him information, but she isn’t feeling quite as friendly recently.”

Buffy frowned. “What happened?”

“First she found out that Angel is a vampire, then her father was killed by vampires. There are issues there.”

“When aren’t there issues?” Buffy asked rhetorically, suddenly realizing that she’d yet to release Wesley. She got off quickly. “Are you coming or waiting?”

“I’d like to accompany you,” he replied.

Buffy hesitated, then said, “Okay. Just don’t get in my way.”

Wesley looked hurt for a moment before nodding. “Of course not.”

~~~~~

Wesley had wanted to tell Buffy exactly what he thought of her assumption that he would be in the way, but had held back, knowing that she hadn’t caught much more than a glimpse of him over the last year. Buffy had no idea what kind of man he was now, and Wesley found himself wanting to prove to her that he’d changed.

Alternatively, Wesley hoped that he didn’t make an even bigger fool out of himself.

He had expected them to patrol in silence, but instead, Buffy immediately started up a stream of chatter about how she’d spent her day—lazing by the pool at her father’s apartment complex. She was telling him about the third Cosmo quiz she’d taken when she finally paused in her narrative. “Okay, Wes, you could really help me out here, you know.”

“Help you what?” he asked, bewildered.

Buffy sighed, rolling her eyes as though he’d just asked the stupidest question she’d ever heard. “We’re bait, right? Well, vampires are more attracted to bait that looks defenseless, which means looking like you’re out for a stroll with your girlfriend, rather than your Slayer.” She gave him a sly look. “You _do_ know what it’s like to take a walk with your girlfriend, right?”

“Of course,” he replied, nettled. “I didn’t realize that prattling on like some brainless bit of fluff was a part of your grand plan.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, and Wesley realized belatedly that he might have hurt her feelings. Instead of getting angry, however, Buffy merely said mildly, “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Cordelia.”

“Buffy, I—”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have put it that way, but that’s essentially what I was going for.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “As long as you weren’t actually _calling_ me some ‘brainless bit of fluff,’ I think we’ll be okay.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.”

Their eyes met, and not for the first time did Wesley realize that they were building some kind of connection. He would have given his right arm for a taste of this while he’d been in Sunnydale, when he’d still had some chance at success.

Wesley could admit that he hadn’t been ready to be a Watcher at that point, and he hadn’t known what to do with Buffy and her friends. It seemed a little easier to know how to respond to her now.

After all, he’d been dealing with Cordelia for months now.

Although he never would have admitted to it, it had been a very long time since Wesley had had a girlfriend. Certainly, not since before he’d come to Sunnydale, and there had been quite a dry spell before that. So, while he did know what it was like to take a stroll with a girl, it would be fair to say that he was out of practice.

Now that he knew what Buffy wanted of him, however, Wesley participated in the conversation as best as he could. Wesley filled her in on the most recent gossip about Angel and Cordelia, as well as telling her about the new demon bar he’d found.

“Are you serious?” Buffy asked. “Demons sing karaoke?”

“Some of them do,” Wesley replied. “And then the Host tells them what path they should take.”

Buffy frowned. “That—actually sounds like fun.”

“If you wanted to go while you’re here in town, I’d be happy to accompany you,” he offered, not really expecting Buffy to take him up on it. Hunting vampires was one thing, but going to a bar was something completely different.

To his surprise, she shrugged. “Okay. What night?”

Wesley considered that for a moment. “Any night you like. I can tell the others that I’m doing research or talking to informants.”

“How about tomorrow?” she suggested. “I’m not doing anything.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but Buffy held up a hand. “Hold on to that thought.” The next moment, four vampires burst through the bushes they’d been walking next to. Wesley hadn’t heard them approaching, but then again, that wasn’t terribly unusual.

Thinking that he’d probably better stay out of her way, Wesley backed off, watching as she proceeded to beat them to a pulp. It seemed as though Buffy was taking out her frustrations on the hapless vampires, and he wasn’t going to be of much help there.

Really, it was rather enjoyable to just watch Buffy; she was both graceful and inventive, and Wesley wondered why he’d never gone out on patrol with her in the past.

Other than using the reasoning that Watchers weren’t supposed to get involved, but he’d found getting involved to be more rewarding than anything else he’d ever done.

The last vampire managed to get the best of her, grabbing her arm and throwing her into the bushes. The creature would have immediately dived in after her, but Wesley brought his crossbow up out of reflex. “Hey!”

The vampire turned, sneering at him. “You’ll have your turn next.”

Wesley put a bolt through its heart. “You wish.” He hurried over to the bushes, offering Buffy a hand up. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said abruptly. Then her face softened, and she offered him a smile. “Thanks, Wes.”

“It was no trouble,” he said. “I’m just glad I could be of some help.”

She grinned. “Yeah, this was exactly what I needed.”

Wesley felt a small glow of pleasure; he’d finally gotten something right where a Slayer was concerned.

~~~~~

Buffy wasn’t sure what to wear to a demon bar. Obviously, she wasn’t dressing for a date, but it was still hard to know how to dress.

And, weirdly, it still felt kind of like a date.

Although Wesley had told her that there was a spell in place to enforce the “no violence” policy, the Slayer thought she probably should wear something she could fight in. Not that she had a problem slaying in heels, but if Buffy was dressed up, and Wesley wasn’t, she would feel really out of place.

Sighing, she pulled out a sundress she’d found on sale earlier that day. It was hot outside, even after the sun had gone down, and so it made sense to wear something cool. Plus, it wasn’t terribly dressy, so she wouldn’t appear overdressed.

It was really too bad that Wesley wasn’t a girl, because then Buffy would have just called him and asked what he was going to wear.

The phone rang, and Buffy picked it up on the second ring.. “Hello?”

“Hey, Buffy!” Willow said. “How’s L.A.?”

“It’s okay.”

“Aren’t you having fun with your dad?” Willow asked.

Buffy rolled her eyes, even though she knew Willow couldn’t see her. “I might be if he was actually in town. He had to take off for a business trip, and I don’t know when he’s coming back.”

“You’re there by yourself?” Willow audibly hesitated. “Have you talked to Angel yet?”

“No,” Buffy replied. “We discussed that, remember? I’m not contacting Angel because that way lies badness.”

Willow made a humming noise. “Plus, then you’d have to explain that you don’t have a boyfriend anymore.”

“That too,” Buffy agreed.

“So, are you coming back early?” Willow asked. “We miss you here.”

Buffy sighed. “I don’t think so. I’m going to wait and see if Dad can get back before I’m scheduled to leave. Besides, I’m getting some slaying in here, so it’s not like I’m sitting home alone every night.”

“You’re patrolling by yourself?”

“Not really,” she hedged. “I ran into Wesley the other night.”

There was a long pause. “I could have sworn that you implied that you’re hanging out with Wesley.”

“Not hanging out,” Buffy corrected her. “It’s more that we have the same goals, and we’re meeting them together.”

“Uh huh.” Willow didn’t sound convinced. “What happened to thinking he was a great big dork?”

“He’s grown up,” Buffy said defensively. “You were the one who told me that he was working with Angel. That seems to indicate that he’s changed, right?”

“I guess so,” Willow said doubtfully.

Buffy heard the door buzz. “I have to go. We’re going to this demon karaoke bar tonight.”

“Huh?”

Buffy grinned. “That’s what I said. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.”

“Call me later,” Willow instructed. “I want to hear more, make sure the smog isn’t going to your head.”

“Okay,” Buffy said.

She greeted Wesley cheerily, climbing behind him without argument. The previous evening had indicated that he wasn’t too bad of a driver, and she found the ride rather enjoyable, even in a dress.

Although, if she’d thought that part of it through, Buffy probably would have worn pants.

They pulled up in front of a rather nondescript building, and Buffy followed him down below street level into a bar. There was bouncer taking weapons at the door, but she had left her stake with Wesley’s bike since he’d warned her that they didn’t allow weapons in Caritas. In a way, that made Buffy feel a little better about the success of the no violence rule.

The stage in front had a green-skinned demon singing “Over the Rainbow,” and doing a pretty good job of it. “That’s the Host,” Wesley explained, leaning close to her ear. “He’s the one who does the readings.”

“And he sings, too,” Buffy quipped.

Wesley shrugged. “He’s an entertainer.” He led the way to the bar, sitting down next to a demon who looked a little lizard-like. “Hello, Merle.”

“Wesley,” the demon said, giving Buffy a suspicious glance. “This your girlfriend?”

Wesley smiled tightly. “She’s a friend.”

“Really?” Merle looked at him askance. “I was beginning to think that you didn’t have any.”

Buffy watched as Wesley just raised an eyebrow. “You know, this relationship doesn’t have to continue if you’d rather not get paid.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Merle said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I got nothing for you tonight, though.”

Wesley put his hand, palm down, on the bar. “I find that hard to believe, Merle.”

“Well, I _might_ have heard that there’s a Winzc demon looking to party, if you know what I mean.”

Merle reached for Wesley’s hand, but he pulled back. “Where?”

“Come on, man,” Merle whined. “If I told you that, they’d know I talked, and it would be my skin.”

Wesley smiled. “Yes, but if you don’t tell us, I can make no guarantees that I won’t mention your name when I start asking around about the ritual sacrifice.”

Merle, in lieu of actually telling Wesley where to find the demon, wrote the address down on a napkin. “There. Now you know. I’ve gotta go.” He grabbed his money and left without a backwards glance.

“What was that all about?” Buffy asked quietly as Wesley waved the bartender over.

“Merle is an informant of mine,” Wesley replied. “We have a certain understanding.”

“What?” Buffy asked. “You pay and he talks?”

Wesley shrugged uncomfortably. “I can get information from Merle that Cordelia does not get from her visions. He’s proven to be fairly reliable, possibly because he knows that I wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if he double-crossed me.”

Buffy had to fight back her snickers at that last comment from Wesley. He sounded very much like the Wesley she’d known in Sunnydale, and she wondered if he’d really do it. Was Wesley really capable of making a decision like that?

Somehow, she doubted it.

“Wesley, it’s good to see you again,” the green-skinned demon said as he came up behind him. “And you brought a date, too!”

“This is Buffy,” Wesley said. “Buffy, this is the Host.”

The Host took her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Have you known Wesley long?”

“A couple of years,” Buffy said.

The Host graced her with a beneficent smile. “You really must sing for me tonight.”

Buffy shook her head. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” the demon asked. “You couldn’t be worse than Arlok up there.”

Buffy glanced up at the stage, where a very hairy demon was singing something she didn’t recognize; Arlok sounded like a foghorn. “No, that’s okay.”

The Host looked at the bartender, who had just approached them. “A Sea Breeze for me, Bloody Mary for the gentleman, and a Diet Coke for the lady.” He looked at Buffy. “How’d I do?”

“Good,” she admitted.

The Host gave her a penetrating look. “Surely a woman in your position could use a little knowledge about what the future holds.”

“No, I—” Buffy stopped, thinking about it. It would be nice to know what was coming, but she didn’t think she wanted to sing in order to find her answers. Unless… “If Wesley sings, I’ll do it.”

“What?” Wesley asked, alarmed. “I couldn’t.”

Buffy smirked. “Chicken?”

Wesley gave her a sour look. “You haven’t heard me sing.”

“So it’s settled,” the Host said. “You’ll both sing. I’ll just go put you on the list.”

Buffy watched him go with her mouth open. “I didn’t agree to sing!” she protested.

“You still don’t have to,” he replied. “We could leave now. Unless _you’re_ chicken.”

Their eyes met and locked, and Buffy knew that she didn’t have a choice. There was no way she was going to allow Wesley to think that she was afraid of singing karaoke in front of a bunch of demons—even though she was.

“You first,” she responded.

He looked like he was about to argue, but instead, Wesley set his jaw and squared his shoulders. “Fine.” His eyes narrowed. “How do I know that you’re not going to back out?”

Buffy raised her hand, as though taking an oath. “I promise that I will sing after you do.”

Wesley moved towards the stage, and Buffy smirked, sipping on her drink. She wondered what he’d sing, and whether he’d be any good.

Buffy recognized the song he sung; her mom listened to the classic rock station often enough that she knew Cat Stevens immediately. Wesley wasn’t very good, and he was obviously very uncomfortable up on stage, but he sang “The First Cut is the Deepest” like he knew what he was talking about.

He was finished all too soon, and Buffy watched as he went over to the side of the stage and held a conversation with the Host. When Wesley joined her a few minutes later, he had a thoughtful look on his face.

His expression soon changed to a smug grin. “I think it’s your turn.”

Buffy made a face. “Do I have to?”

Wesley glared at her. “You promised.”

She had. Buffy rose, heading over to the stage to pick her song, not having any clue as to what she ought to sing. Flipping through the menu quickly, she paused, ready to dismiss the idea as a little too cliché, but then giving a snort of laughter. It was appropriate, and she knew the words.

~~~~~

Wesley gulped the rest of his Bloody Mary convulsively. He couldn’t believe that he’d just gotten up and sang—without any alcohol in his system to speak of.

He didn’t know what to think about the Host’s words. “Don’t worry so much about proving yourself. Keep to the path you’re on, and you’ll be fine. Just—” The demon had hesitated before continuing. “Before you go off on your own, make sure you get a second opinion, huh?”

Wesley had no idea what the anagogic demon meant by that, and he wasn’t certain that he was meant to. Certainly, there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

The music started up, and Wesley turned to face the stage. Buffy looked more than a little nervous, clutching at the microphone desperately. He was just in the process of swallowing when he realized what song she’d chosen, and he nearly spat his drink all over the bar.

His lips twitched as Buffy started singing. “At first I was afraid, I was petrified. Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side.”

Wesley knew that her voice was much better than his own, and after the first verse, she seemed to loosen up and get into the song. Every eye in the place was on her, and it wasn’t any surprise. She was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, and she didn’t sound all that bad. He wondered what the reaction would be if the demons and vampires in the place knew she was the Slayer.

When she’d finished, Buffy got a round of applause, which she accepted with a flushed face and wide grin. Her smile faded as the Host spoke to her, however, and when Buffy came over to him, she picked up her purse. “Could we take off now?”

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Wesley asked.

“That would be great,” Buffy replied.

He took her to a little diner he knew of that had great food and was open late. Even though Buffy ordered a large meal, she mostly stared at her burger and fries, rather than digging in. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” After a moment, Buffy asked, “You know that I already died once, right?”

“Yes,” Wesley replied cautiously, unsure of where the conversation was headed.

“So what would you say when someone told you that if you keep on going down the path you were on, it was going to end sooner rather than later?”

“I suppose I would begin thinking of alternatives,” Wesley replied.

Buffy picked up a fry and then put it down again. “Do you believe in fate?”

“I suppose I do,” Wesley said. “I also think that we have some control of our own lives.”

Buffy sighed. “I wish I believed that.” Slowly, she said, “I feel like being the Slayer is taking over everything I am. What if that’s all I am, and that means that I don’t have another choice?”

“Another choice about what?”

“Dying.”

“I don’t know.” Wesley thought about what the Host had told him. “I suppose you make the best of it. That’s all we can ever do.”

Buffy met his eyes, and she looked so young in that moment. Wesley had always had a fascination with Slayers, believing them to be something other than human, and therefore in need of guidance from their Watchers.

What he’d expected were warriors—soldiers with no thought for anything except the hunt. Instead, Wesley had discovered that Slayers were just girls—entirely and wholly human.

“What else did the Host say?” Wesley asked. “Surely he gave you some advice.”

“He told me to trust the person I was least likely to trust,” Buffy said. “That if I did, I might be able to save myself and the people that I love.”

“Who are you least likely to trust?” Wesley asked, thinking that there was a good possibility that he was on the short list.

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know.” She grimaced. “Well, I do know, but it seems pretty far-fetched.”

It was apparent that she didn’t want to say more than that, so Wesley just nodded. “Buffy, I realize that I’m no longer your Watcher, but if you ever need my help, you have only to call.”

Her smile was grateful. “Thanks, Wes, I appreciate that.” She hesitated. “What did the Host tell you?”

“That I should get a second opinion before going off on my own,” Wesley said. “Other than that, he didn’t have any advice.”

Buffy smiled. “If you need that second opinion, I’m pretty good at delivering mine.”

“Thank you.” Wesley wasn’t sure when or if he would ever take Buffy up on her offer, but he appreciated that she’d made it. Who knew? Maybe she’d be the only person he would be able to call one day. “You should eat,” he urged. “Your food will get cold.”

“You, too,” Buffy said, picking up her hamburger. “Thanks.”

“For what?” Wesley asked.

“For making this a pretty decent vacation,” Buffy said.

Wesley shrugged. “It was my pleasure. You know, if you’re going to be in town for much longer…”

Buffy’s smile gained an edge, and her eyes glinted with excitement at the thought of the hunt. “I could use a Watcher while I’m in town.”

Wesley returned her smile, already thinking of excuses he could give Angel and Cordelia about what he was doing while he was with Buffy. He didn’t think she wanted them to know she was in town, and he was enjoying being a Watcher even if only for a short time.

It was going to be a very interesting week.


End file.
